


(No) Strings Attached

by J_33



Category: Ant-Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Potential Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 02:48:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15257763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_33/pseuds/J_33
Summary: Hope liked to define her relationship with Scott Lang as casual (though Hank would later tell her that they were never casual).  While they never really talked about what they meant to each other, she assumed there was a mutual understanding that there was no strings attached, which is the way Hope preferred her strings.





	(No) Strings Attached

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this might be long but I have a lot to say dammit! When I first watched Ant-man way back when I didn't like it. Did I hate it? No, but I just wasn't really interested in the characters at all. Fast forward to last week when I went to see Ant-man and the wasp, not because I was particualarly excited, but because I like to watch all the marvel films and see how they connect, blah blah blah. I am glad to admit that I loved this movie. While there were some flaws and plot holes, I loved the characters and found it all so entertaining, enough so that it made me go back and watch the original Ant-man movie and find a new appreciation for it. So now, I am obsessed with the relationship of Scott/Hope and I'm not much a fic writer anymore since I started college, but there just isn't enough fics of them out there, and they have so much potential so I couldn't help myself. Sorry if this story seems kinda jumbled or oddly paced I just had to much to say, and tried my best to make it flow. Please enjoy!

Hope liked to define her relationship with Scott Lang as casual (though Hank would later tell her that they were never casual). While they never really talked about what they meant to each other, she assumed there was a mutual understanding that there was no strings attached, which is the way Hope preferred her strings. 

She wasn’t exactly a relationship person; she wasn’t even much of a people person. She excelled in science and math and numbers. She appreciated facts and the truth, which was understandable having been lied to and hurt by her dad most her life. 

So, it was no mystery as to why Hope kept people at a distance, figuratively and literally. Her first real boyfriend lived half way across the country, and when he offered to move closer to San Francisco she fled, and chalked it up to his addiction to cigarettes that she refused to be a part of. After that, her track record consisted mostly of flings, and fighting off the unwanted advances of Darren Cross before he went bat shit crazy.

But Scott was different… well they were different, like night and day. When she was in boarding school with her head buried in a book on molecular geometry, he was learning how to hot wire a car. When she was moving up the ranks of Pym Technologies, he was breaking the law. He was an ex-con who was incapable of taking anything seriously. He still took bubble baths like a child (it relaxes the soul, he would say) and thinks that Rock Band and hot pockets justify a good date. 

Yet despite all the reasons that made him imperfect and wrong for her, he understood her like no one else ever has. He made her laugh, and made her feel safe, and wanted. He knew when to give her space when she was working on an algorithm that she just couldn’t get right, but he also knew when to interfere when she got too lost in her head.

(“Watcha readin?” He asked, hiding a yawn very poorly as he sat down next to her in the worn couch he found at a garage sale.

“Go to bed,” she said, running her hands through her hair for about the hundredth time, a sign of her frustration.

Her hair looked so much different then the business-only bob cut she wore months earlier. Her bangs were growing out and it was already down past her shoulders. She kept saying she couldn’t find the time to get it cut, but really she liked the way Scott brushed it out of her face when they were alone together.

Scott sighed at her stoic response. Cracking the shell of Hope van Dyne sometimes felt like an impossible task. Luckily, Scott was incredibly skilled at breaking and entering even the most difficult of safes.

“You know, I heard that even Einstein took breaks every so often,” Scott said back, with that confident smirk of his that made every word out of his mouth seem convincing.

“Well, I’m sure Einstein didn’t have to worry about getting his supposedly long-dead mother, who now may or may not have been alive this whole time, out of the mysterious yet extremely dangerous quantum realm,” she snapped back, her eyes never leaving the files in her hand.

Scott stiffened up at her words, silent for once, unsure of what to say. Hope expected him to leave the muggy living room of his apartment that has become more like an office whenever she visits and never look back, but instead he grabbed her free hand and gave it a gentle squeeze of encouragement. 

“You’ll figure it out,” he said with those puppy dog eyes that always reeked of pure honesty and astonishment no matter the crap that spilled out of his mouth in his attempts to draw a cheap laugh. “You always do,” he finished, before getting up, and going to bed.

With her eyes still glued on her work, she felt the imprint of his hand on hers like an anchor in a storm ridden sea. She slowly put the file down, left the clutter and pool of anxiety around her, and crawled into bed next to him. Hope fell asleep with her head pressed into his warm chest, and the next morning she woke to the smell of pancakes and at the same moment she figured out what she was missing).

Even with those tiny moments shared between them that meant more to her than she was capable of putting into words, it was easier for all parties involved if they kept labels out of this… thing between them. It was easier if she continued to tell herself that she kept Scott around because the sex was good, not because he was good.

But then he would whisper in her ear when they were sparring in the training room, and lay on top of her longer than necessary after successfully tackling her to the ground, and she would feel more than fire between her thighs. He would say something charming in his own stupendous way, and she would feel the foreign ache of butterflies in her stomach. 

Their very important, very professional training would be filled with curse words and light laughter, and other stuff… and by the end of it Hope’s cheeks would be flushed pink not from exercise, but because she couldn’t help but blush at everything this idiot said. Before she knows it she has an extra pair of clothes at his house, her favorite cereal on top of his fridge, and an X marked in her agenda for their strictly platonic movie nights, that some how always ended with at least one of them naked.

Having been robbed of a traditional childhood, Hope imagines this is what a teenager felt like with their first love — but this wasn’t love, it couldn’t be. They were just two adults having some fun. Fun was safe, fun was the net beneath her as she walked across this unfamiliar tight rope of feelings with this guy who only came into her life to stop the world from being destroyed by another bald guy with a god complex.

Everything changes the day she meets Cassie Lang. Hope always considered herself bad with kids, but then one day she shows up at Scotts door after a brutal fight with her father that made her question all the progress they had made since she learned the truth about her mom, and to much of her surprise, a little girl that looks a lot like him, opens the door instead.

“Cassie, what did I say about opening the door to strangers—,” Scott starts as he makes his way over, but doesn’t finish, as he now sees who is on the other side of the door, standing in the pouring rain, looking both fierce and fragile.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Hope stutters. “I should have called. I’ll just leave,” she says, visibly uncomfortable, as she backpedals away like a lion retreating from an event that it’s not welcome to.

“Wait, we actually just made dinner. You can stay, I mean if you want to,” Scott says, scratching the back of his head, trying to figure out how to approach the situation of his not-girlfriend meeting his daughter formally for the first time. 

Cassie’s face chirps up at his suggestion, the same way Scotts does whenever she lets him distract her from whatever stress is plaguing her mind, and despite every nerve in her body telling her to run, she agrees.

The dinner goes by smoothly. They eat spaghetti and meatballs, and Scott tricks Cassie into eating her broccoli by telling her that it’s the only way to grow up nice and strong and become a super hero (like Hope, he whispers, and discretely, but not so discretely points in her direction, as she coincidentally spoons a piece of broccoli in her mouth). 

Hope watches as Cassie’s eyes grow wide and light up in curious admiration. “Do you fight bad guys with my daddy?” she asks. 

“Well, um, yes I do,” Hope answers in a reserved manner, as she never really viewed herself as a super hero.

“Wowww,” the little girl says. “Do you shrink and grow like daddy does?” She asks.

“She sure does, and she can even fly,” Scott butts in, much to his daughters glee. 

“But only because I eat so many veggies at dinner,” Hope says, watching as Cassie dumps more broccoli onto her plate in response.

The rest of the dinner is filled with laughter and small talk, and Hope forgets why she was so worried in the first place. 

Later after Scott tucks Cassie in, he finds Hope sitting in bed, checking her emails. He plops down next to her, and Hope can feel his eyes on her as she scrolls through her phone.

She eventually succumbs to the force of his gaze, and puts her phone down, and looks at him. He’s smiling like a love sick dork, and it’s making her feel uncomfortable. 

“What’s got you so happy?” She asks, finally breaking the silence.

“I’ve never seen Cassie eat so much green colored food in her whole life,” he says like broccoli is the equivalent to winning the lottery.

“Well, I’m glad I could help,” Hope says as she fidgets with her hands. “Vegetables are an acquired taste, but it’s really important that people include them in their diet because—,” she rambles on, but is cut off by Scotts lips on hers.

He pulls back, his face still inches away from hers, and her breath catches in her throat. She feels overwhelmed with the emotions she tried so hard to bury deep within the shattered remnants of her damaged heart. 

Her mind is racing, and for once its not full of theories and probabilities. 

She formulates her thoughts, and manages to ask, “Do you think she liked me?”

Scott beams with pride. “I think she loved you.”

And while that’s not a declaration of love from Scott, somehow it means more to Hope. Catching him off guard, she manages to flip him over, and straddles his hips, and this time she’s the one who pulls him in for a long kiss, and of course other stuff follows.

They eventually fall back into bed, covered in a thin layer of sweat and breathing heavily. Once Scott catches his breath, she hears his hoarse voice ask, “Why did you decide to come over in the first place — not that I’m not glad you did — I’m really, really glad you did,” he says, his tone lowering seductively making her chest rise with laughter. “But I’m just curious.”

Hope thinks back to the fight she had with her dad in the lab earlier that day, and remembers how angry she had felt. He said something that made her feel inferior, the same way she felt as a child whenever he disregarded all her accomplishments, and pushed her aside for his work. But now laying here in Scotts bed, she feels both content and fulfilled.

“It doesn’t matter,” she says, wrapping an arm around his lean waist. 

Scott waits for a longer explanation that he knows will never come, but instead of prodding her for more details, he runs his free hand through her now long hair, and he can’t help but think about how lucky he is.

For the first time, Hope can feel the beginning of something permanent, something where labels aren’t a risk, and feeling too much doesn’t mean falling (she is the wasp after all, and has wings for a reason).

But then Germany happens, and Hope finds out on the news that Scott stole the ant man suit and left without a word to go help a bunch of heroes he barely knew. She acts like she’s mad that he would do something so entirely stupid and irresponsible, but really she’s just hurt that he left her behind when she had finally accepted that they were (more than) partners. 

Hope buries herself back in her work, and tries to forget about the I love you’s that were on the tip of her tongue, just waiting for the right time to come out. She focuses on finding her mom, and her own training because she’s a goddamn super hero too, but she can't erase the memory in the back of her mind of dinner with his daughter that rainy summer night. 

She feels sick when she thinks back to all the moments they shared, because it reminds her of how happy he made her, which just makes her more mad that he went and threw it all away. 

Hank tries to comfort her in his own special way. A hand on her shoulder after successfully finding one of the pieces for the quantum tunnel, or a comment on how she reminds him of her mother. While thoughtful, it does little to soothe her broken heart, and now she knows that if they don’t save her mom from whatever hell she’s been trapped in all these years, she might actually break. 

That’s why when she receives a call from Scott, moments after they opened the tunnel for the first time, she puts aside her rage and her hurt, because she needs his help. 

Even though three years have passed, she can’t help but look longingly at Scotts unconscious figure in the passenger seat of her car. 

No, she shakes her head. You’re just here to find out what’s in his head.

And this time she means it, because her heart can’t take another betrayal.

He wakes up eventually, and opens up his mouth and her chest tightens. He hurt her, and left scars on top of scars, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t miss this.

(She’d be lying if she said she didn’t miss him)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!! Please comment what you thought as it is my first time writing about this pair, and feel free to leave any requests for future fics with the couple, because I think I have a few tales left to tell.


End file.
